Unanticipated Consequences of Cold Turkey Weaning

I spent this past weekend in Denver, attending the second annual Financial Blogger Conference, which, believe it or not, is quite the hoot and a half. (It may even be a hoot and three quarters!)

Prior to leaving, J and I decided that we would use the opportunity to wean LO, so that I would only technically be doing extended breastfeeding (that is, past age 2) for less than a week. Considering the fact that LO has only nursed for naps and bedtime for several months now, I didn't think this would be a big deal.

Sadly, about halfway through day two of the four-day conference, my boobs decided that intense and completely socially unacceptable pain would be a great addition to my professional demeanor. (By the way, Dad, you should probably have stopped reading this post before you got to this paragraph.)

I knew that it would be tough dealing with allowing my moo-juice supply to dry up, but since LO has been such an infrequent nurser, I thought I'd bought myself a free pass from pain. As for anyone at FinCon12 who was wondering why I spent the last two days clapping for presenters with my elbows tight against my chest, now you know. Sorry.

I was also hoping that being away from LO for over 72 hours would diminish his interest in nursing. After all, he managed to live without it during that time. Of course, the first thing he did last night when he realized that I really and truly was at home (he seemed surprised to see me, as if I didn't really belong there) was to tug at my shirt and ask his "Ah?" question. He took my refusal in stride, but that did not stop him from asking a few more times. So, apparently he didn't necessarily miss me, per se, but my boobs were definitely missed.

This afternoon was when we really hit the weaning problem. I lay down with LO for his nap, as per usual, but nursing was not on the agenda. For the first time, LO decided to throw a temper tantrum about that fact, even though it didn't seem to bother him yesterday. Unfortunately, the tantrum included throwing himself on me and beating on my chest with his tiny little fists to show just how angry he was.

Nowhere in the What to Expect books do they ever tell you about for the level of pain that will engender.  Nor do they prepare you for the fact that someday you will have to say to your child "It hurts Mama when you punch her boobs!"

Because that is information that is actually useful.